Only in the Darkness
by jedlee07
Summary: A little add-in for the latest episode, dealing with the fire scene.


Michael pulled to a stop in front of the yellow tape near the bomber's house. He could feel the heat coming from the flames as he approached, calling Fiona's phone. Nobody knew where she was and she wasn't calling him back. As he fought with the men in front of the blazing structure he knew that if anyone _was_ in that house they weren't alive. Desperation filled him and he struggled harder against the men.

"Did anybody see her come out? She- she!" _She was in there. She could be dead. She can't be. She's everything._

Finally they pushed him back and he walked to his car, his thumb hitting Fi's speed dial number again. It went straight to voicemail again and he felt his heart stop. "Fi! Fi, pick up the phone! Call me if you get this! I need to know where you are!" his voice cracked with emotion. He knew the odds but he refused to accept them. He drove around the city for a while, calling Fi's cell phone every few minutes. Each time it went to voicemail.

As darkness replaced the sunshine rain began to fall, coming down in sheets and matching his mood perfectly. He parked in front of his loft, calling her phone one more time. The last dozen or two times he'd called he left no message, knowing deep down that she would never hear any of them. Still he called, hoping that maybe, somehow, she'd pick up this time. His shirt was immediately soaked but he didn't care. He didn't care about much of anything at that moment as he climbed the steps.

He pushed his door open with slow, painful movements. When it snapped shut he felt something snap inside of him. Everything he was feeling began to break through the wall he'd hastily thrown up to keep them at bay. He kept his hands on the door and started to lower his head, not finding the strength needed to hold it up.

"There you are! You've got to get a landline in here." Great. Now his mind was taunting him. He looked up slowly, knowing that if she wasn't there he was definitely going to break. She was there, clean and alive and unharmed. He started to walk towards her and his hand dropped his keys to the floor.

" Poole rigged his place to burst into flames. No surprise, but I let my curiosity get away from me. I waited for burnout in one of the windows- now I need a new cell phone." He came to a stop in front of her, water still dripping from his hair and off his nose. Lightning flashed outside the window as he looked down at her in disbelief, his mouth hanging open.

"Michael, you didn't that-" she stopped, knowing from the look on his face that he did in fact think she was dead. He placed a hand on her cheek and the other followed. He brought his forehead down to rest on hers, drinking in the solidarity of her presence. His relief was so full he couldn't resist the urge to kiss her. The brief contact their lips made wasn't enough and he soon found himself drowning in her.

~~~::::~~~

Later that night Fiona woke up to a strange sound. It was so foreign it took her a moment to realize what it was. Michael was crying. It was a soft, shuddering sound, accented by gentle intakes of breath. She didn't know how to react. Something similar to a sob escaped his lips and she reached out, her hand coming into contact with his chest. She moved it up to his cheek.

"Michael?" She felt the tears on his face and she began to wipe them away. His hand caught hers and he brought it to his lips.

"I'm okay, Fi." His voice was gravelly and she could hear pain in it.

"No, you're not. Just this once, tell me what's wrong."

Silence was his only reply and she thought that was all she was going to get from him.

"I just, had to, let it out." His words were slow and deliberate. He didn't show emotions like this. Did any guy really?

Fiona's thumb stroked his cheek and he leaned into her hand. "I thought you were dead, Fi. By the time I got to that house it was a bonfire. There was no way-"he swallowed. "I thought you were gone. I thought I'd lost you for good."

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "I'm resourceful, Michael. You know me. And I would never leave you like that."

He wrapped his arms around her and brought her close. He'd never showed her his feelings like that before, and he probably wouldn't again. Only in the darkness of the night did he allow her to see his broken heart. That was okay, because day or night she'd do all she could to mend it.

* * *

**Lame, I know. But I had to do it.**


End file.
